Harry Potter and the Leap of Faith
by PottertheOtter
Summary: Starts during the first task of the TriWizard Tournament. Harry/Hermione centered. What if Harry and Hermione had developed feelings for each other that went beyond friendship? What if they acted on these feelings? Harry takes the Leap of Faith. There will be abusive Dursleys, so be warned! Not sure about what I want to do with the Weasleys or Dumbledore. Rating may go from T to M.
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter and the Leap of Faith**

By: PottertheOtter

Harry Potter was terrified. Not for exams, classes, overdue homework, or detentions, like most teenagers are. No, he was terrified because he was about to face a dragon. In a ring. With no help. And everybody watching. Not exactly a normal fear for most teenagers. But this was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. He never had normal teenage problems.

As the tent filled up with Ministry officials and the stands filled up with spectators, Harry was sitting stock still, remembering everything that Hermione had taught him. Then his mind started wandering off.

_Hermione._

She believed him when no one else did. She was always there for him. She protected him, even from himself. She did so much for him. Harry stopped his musings for a moment. What did he ever do for her?

Suddenly, harry wasn't thinking about himself anymore. He was wondering what he had ever done to deserve someone so amazing in his life such as Hermione. Through his musings, one thought stopped him short.

_I love her._

_But how would I know what love is? _Harry thought, unable to believe that he was capable of something such as love. His home life was... not very loving, and, as far as he could tell, his aunt and uncle were not very loving. Of course, he knew that he had had a bit of a crush on her since the end of second year, but he couldn't even _fathom _love. He only stopped thinking about these things when the subject of his thoughts' voice came from the other side of the tent.

"Harry?" She called tentatively.

"Hermione? What are you doing here?" Harry asked, nervous about letting his feelings slip out in front of her. He leaned closer to the tent wall to hear her better.

"I just... I just wanted to wish you luck. I know you can do it,

Harry." Hermione said, blushing lightly.

"Well...uh... Thanks, Hermione. For everything." He added, thinking of his previous musings. He started blushing as well. All of a sudden, the tent wall was pushed aside, and Hermione hugged him tightly in one of her patented bone-crushing hugs. He tentatively returned it, having a strong urge to kiss her. He tried to push it aside, but it only became more persistent. After a few seconds, he decided to follow the instinct and take a leap of faith.

Harry turned his head, looking into her eyes. They contained so much emotion. Her worry and fear for him, her care for him, and... something else that he couldn't quite place.

Slowly, he leaned forward and his lips made contact with hers in a chaste kiss. She stood stock still for a moment, before returning the kiss with interest, moving her arms to his neck and hair, which was cut short except for his bangs in the front,(A/N: I want Harry to have short hair. Deal with it. I'm not into long hair, so sorry.) which was just long enough to cover his scar. They pulled away after a flash blinded them.

"AH, young love!" came one of the voices that Harry was quickly learning to despise. Rita Skeeter was looking like the cat that ate the canary, while her photographer scurried elsewhere, escaping the glares he was receiving. Too bad his companion didn't. "How romantic! Seeing your man off to battle, when you may not see him again." She said in a sickening voice, her acidic green quill writing everything down.

"Leave them alone." a gruff and heavily accented voice growled from the side. Viktor Krum looked at Skeeter with a look of contempt and disgust. "It is none o' yer buizness vat zey have." Krum said, looking toward them with understanding. They nodded their gratitude for his help. Just before Skeeter could comment, she was ushered to the side of the tent as Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch entered, a velvet bag in Crouch's hand and a smile on Bagman's face.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the first task! You will each reach into the bag and take out a.. Ah.. Object pertaining to the task." He looked around and noticed Hermione, tucked into Harry's side. "Uh, young lady? Are you supposed to be here?" Hermione blushed and said "No, sir. I was just wishing Harry good luck." She turned and hugged him, then near-ran out of the tent. Harry stared at where she'd left, the realization of what task laid before him hitting him, making his stomach drop, a drastic change from the fluttery feeling he had when he kissed Hermione.

"Alright, gather 'round, we'll go around the circle, clockwise, I think, and everyone can pick out the... ah, objects." Bagman said, and Crouch held the bag out. Cedric got the Swedish Short-Snout, Fleur got the Common Welsh Green, and Viktor got the Chinese Fireball. Harry was last to choose, and he already knew exactly which dragon he got. _The Hungarian_ _Horntail. Just my luck. _Harry thought, reaching into the bag and drawing out the miniature dragon. It was feisty, trying to nip his fingers. He looked up, seeing the other champions just staring at their dragons with apprehension. "Alright, I believe Mr. Diggory shall go first, then Mr. Krum, Ms. Delacour third, and Mr. Potter will go last. At the cannon blast, you will go to the exit over there, and step out into the arena. Good luck all!" Ludo Bagman said, completely unfazed by the fact that he was sending people out to face a dragon.

Everyone but the champions and a few officials left, letting the champions compose themselves. Harry just stared at his miniature dragon, wondering just how bad this would be. He hoped that his plan worked (Hermione and Moody's plan, really). Idly thinking, Harry wondered if he could keep the miniature dragon. It was pretty cool looking, and it seemed to be unable to physically harm him.

The cannon blast shook him out of his thoughts as the tent shook, jostling those inside it slightly. Cedric took a deep breath, and then stepped out of the exit. That was pretty much how it went for everyone, up to Harry getting ready to head out. At the cannon blast, he closed his eyes and steadied himself, taking two deep steadying breaths. And then he stepped into the arena.

There were rocks everywhere, and it was dead silent. Harry looked around, crouching slightly, trying to get a sense of his surroundings. On the far side of the arena, the dragon stood, large, intimidating, and dangerous. And it was staring right at him. Harry quickly dodged to the side, behind the cover of a rock, as a jet of fire flew right next to him, singeing his sleeve slightly. He held up his wand and cast a silent 'accio firebolt' before ducking again as fire hit stone, melting it into hot magma. Knowing that the stone would be gone within seconds, Harry dashed to the next stone, keeping his eyes out for his broom and watching the dragon. _Come on, come on! _He thought, looking to the skies for his broom, knowing the stone was getting dangerously close to melting away. Seeing a speck in the sky flying toward him from the castle, Harry heaved a small sigh of relief, but knew he had to run before the stone was gone.

He ran out from behind the stone, feeling a searing pain in his back as he did so. A jet of fire had just missed its mark, but was close enough to completely burn his back. He let out a grunt of pain before reaching out, and his broomstick flew into his hand. He immediately hopped on, flying away from the fire that lit up the spot he had occupied only seconds before.

He turned his broom around and dove near the dragon, trying to draw her away from the nest. She strained against her chain to get at him, but they were constricting. Suddenly, she turned her head and bit through the chain. Harry noticed this, and immediately knew that his luck was even more rotten than normal. He flew away, trying to get away from the now-free dragon, but the dragon pursued him, taking to the sky. Harry knew that dragons were excellent flyers, and most people could never even hope to outfly one. _Most _people. He, of course, had come to realize that he was definitely not like _most _people. Crazy stuff always happened to him, and he knew it wasn't always bad luck. So, he flew.

The dragon roared from behind him, and Harry could hear the spectators screaming in panic. He pushed the broom harder, going as fast possible, before making a sharp dive, the dragon following him. He dove straight for the eggs, which were all empty casts of the originals, except for the gold one, so that none would actually be harmed. The dragon roared from behind, seeing that he was diving for the eggs, and slowed down, not wanting to crush what she though was her nest.

Harry grabbed the golden egg and tried to fly away, but he was hit by the tail of the enraged dragon-mother. A spike broke off into his shoulder, deeply embedded. Harry let out a shout of pain, his broom flying into the side of the stadium, and he slumped into unconsciousness.

The crowd screamed again, this time in fear for the competitor. The dragon handlers rushed out into the arena, subduing the Hungarian Horntail while healers took Harry onto a stretcher, one carrying the egg for him, heading toward the tent which was being used for a temporary medical tent to treat any emergency injuries for the champions. One Gryffindor was running to the medical tent, tears streaming down her face which was filled with worry.

In the medical tent, Madam Pomfrey was bustling about, running diagnostic charms and gathering the necessary potions.

She worked on her most frequent patient with diligent care and sharp eyes, but with a tenderness that gave away that she had grown to care for Harry Potter. She worked hard, trying to save the boy, who carried too many impossible tasks on his young shoulders.

First, she got rid of his concussion, this way there was no chance of real brain damage. Then, she gave Harry an anesthetic potion and pain relief, knowing that the next part would hurt a lot. She didn't care for working on a thrashing and screaming patient. She took her wand and tried to remove the spike from his shoulder, but it was too deeply embedded to safely summon it. So, Pomfrey had to set to take it out manually, which took a lot of effort, seeing as it was right in the bone.

An hour later, Harry Potter was free of the dragon spike and on his way to recovery, with a slightly exhausted Madam Pomfrey double checking her work. Since the dragon spike was from such a magically powerful and resistant beast, there was going to be a big scar on his shoulder, but he was safe from any lasting damage. Satisfied, Pomfrey transferred her patient to the hospital wing, where a Gryffindor with bushy brown hair had been directed an hour ago after being denied access to the medical tent.

AS Madam Pomfrey levitated Harry onto a bed, she looked over towards Hermione and gave her a tired smile. "He's going to be fine after I take care of that burn on his back. You can stay right here. Just don't touch his back." With that, Pomfrey turned Harry onto his stomach, exposing his burnt back so that she could put some burn salve on it.

Hermione sat down and took the unconscious boy's hand, squeezing it with her own at the sight of his back. Besides the burn, there were many scars that were definitely _not_ from the dragon. She covered her mouth with her free hand, trying to hold back her sobs of horror. She knew _exactly _where he got those scars. She had had a sneaking suspicion that Harry had a worse home life than he let on, but it didn't make it any easier to see the evidence. This was one of the few times Hermione wished that she had been wrong. She couldn't fathom how someone could do this to Harry. _Her _Harry. He was such a good person; brave, loyal, helpful, caring, sweet, and so much more. Yes, he could be a bit thick and hot-headed, but he more than made up for it with everything else. No one deserved this, especially not him. Hermione decided to be there for him and ask him to talk about it, knowing he would be uncomfortable about it, but needed to.

She would be there for him.

Harry opened his eyes to the blinding white of the infirmary. Something that he was becoming far too familiar with. His shoulder throbbed lightly, and he squinted at the blurred vision without the aid of his glasses. He felt a delicate hand holding his calloused one. Using his unoccupied hand, Harry reached for his glasses on the nightstand, feeling a slight burning sensation on his back as he did so. Once his vision was cleared, Harry saw Hermione, sleeping on a chair next to the hospital bed he was occupying. He shook his head at her antics.

Careful not to wake her, Harry shifted into a more comfortable position on his bed, trying to remember exactly how he ended up in the hospital wing and how long he'd been there. The memories of the first task slowly flooded his mind. Sighing, he wondered how long he'd been out of commission. It was obviously long enough to have Hermione sleeping in a chair. Then the events that took place before the first task flooded into his brain.

He'd kissed Hermione. _And she kissed him back._ Harry was on cloud nine for about an hour before the sleeping beauty stirred. He patiently watched as her eyes flickered open.

"Hello there. Have a nice nap?" He teased gently. Hermione's eyes flew wide open as she heard his voice, before she flung her arms around him, her relief palpable. He hugged her back, despite the ache of his shoulder and back at the action.

"Harry! Thank goodness you're alright. I've been worried sick about you." She scolded with care. "You've been unconscious for about three days." She answered his unspoken question. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent. It was a rugged, almost woodsy scent, with a hint of something so completely _Harry._ Hermione felt comforted immensely just by this and his heart thrumming from within his chest to hers as he hugged her tightly to him.

"Hermione, about what happened in the tent… does this… does this mean that we're, you know, dating?" Harry asked, hoping he wasn't stretching things too far. Hermione looked into his eyes and instead of the rejection she thought she'd see there at the idea, she saw hope. He was _hoping_ that she would say yes. Her heart ached with the pure joy of being wanted, of being cared about in the same way she cared about him. She nodded happily and hugged him even tighter, hesitantly kissing his cheek. She heard him give a contented sigh as he relaxed into her grip.

Hermione pulled back for a moment, taking in the features of her newly minted boyfriend. His green eyes shone brightly from behind his glasses, which showed too many quick repairs from being broken multiple times. His hair, even though it was shorn quite short, was as messy as ever. His defined jawline showed the first signs of stubble coming in, and his lips were pulled into a happy lop-sided grin. Hermione was happier than she could ever remember being in her entire life.

AN: Hello all! This is PottertheOtter here. Thank you for reading the first chapter of my story. It took a while to really get it going. My computer had broken down towards the end of the first draft, so I had to rewrite almost half the chapter. Hopefully, chapter two will be up sometime in March. Updates will be slow and most likely spontaneous, seeing as there is the muggle world interfering with _my_ magic. Please leave a review if you feel like it, but please don't be mean. There's too much mean in the world as it is. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Have a lovely day, night, or whatever it is for you :)

Also, I made Harry's hair short because I find it more… well, sexy/handsome. It's my personal preference, so please don't mind it.

I'm going to write the disclaimer here for the entire story, so I'm NOT rewriting it over and over.

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN A DAMN THING, EXCEPT THE CARDBOARD BOX I LIVE IN AND THE PLOT MY TWISTED MIND CREATED STEMMING OFF THE HARRY POTTER SERIES. ALL CHARACTERS, OBJECTS OF THE WIZARDING WORLD, AND THE WIZARDING WORLD ITSELF BELONG TO WB AND JK ROWLING. (Don't worry; the cardboard box thing was a joke… I hope.)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next day, Harry was let out of the hospital wing with a warning from Madam Pomfrey "The next time you get hurt, don't count on me giving you pain relief potions." She said, but it was obvious to both Harry and Hermione that she wasn't sincere.

Almost everyone, bar the Slytherins, came up and apologized for treating Harry so badly and told him that they believed him when he said he didn't enter the tournament. The only person that didn't do this, which was quite strange, was one Ronald Weasley.

The fact that Harry and Hermione were now a couple seemed to not surprise anyone. The relationship seemed to be held in high regard, despite the fact it had only started 24 hours before.

That night, the newly minted couple sat close together in the Gryffindor common room, looking into the fire as they talked about everything and nothing. As the night wore on, Hermione was determined to ask Harry about the scars on his back, but she wanted to make sure no one else was in the common room to hear. She didn't want him to feel embarrassed. She had read a book the previous summer on abused children after she had felt her suspicions deepen during third year.

Hermione remembered how when she and Harry had been sitting and talking during the time-turner incident, she had noticed how Harry seemed to skirt the subject of summer and his family, switching the subject around so that it was more focused on her. Troubled deeply by his evasiveness, she researched her suspicions and found that Harry exhibited most of the traits attributed to those who were abused; he was quiet, he never seemed to really care for himself, he always seemed as though he was starved after the summer, and he was almost always quite gun shy when it came to people touching him in any way, except for Hermione herself. When Hermione had read this, she felt her heart break for her closest friend. She couldn't fathom how anyone could do such a thing to such an amazing person. She'd told her mother about her fears and research, and her mother had told her that she needed to talk to Harry. Her mum told her that if Harry was okay with it, he could stay with them over the summer break. Deeply grateful for her mother's advice and offer, Hermione thanked her and said that she would try and get Harry to open up about his past, but at his own pace.

After their discussion, her mother gave her a knowing smile and asked Hermione "So, how long have you loved your best friend?"

Blushing just the tiniest bit, Hermione replied "I don't even know, Mum. At least since the end of second year, if not longer."

Her mum's smile grew as she drew her only child into a hug. "Well, he's very lucky to have such an amazing girl so smitten with him."

Hermione smiled a bit at the memory. Her mum had teased her relentlessly the rest of the summer over her crush.

Shaking her head clear of the memory, Hermione looked around the common room as the last few people headed up to their dorms. She turned around to look at Harry, who seemed to be reading the Defense book. _Well,_ Hermione thought, _no time like the present._ She shifted her body into a more comfortable position facing him, and prepared herself for a long discussion. Seeming to sense the change in the atmosphere, Harry marked the page he was up to and looked at Hermione.

"Harry, when you were in the hospital wing, unconscious, Madam Pomfrey turned you over to put burn salve on your back and… and there were other scars there. Harry, I know that you didn't get them from the dragon. Harry, please tell me where you got them." Hermione said softly, reaching out to hold his hand. He took a shaky breath, trying to calm himself. Harry squeezed her hand and thought to himself '_This is Hermione. She would never laugh at you or hurt you. She'll understand. '_ Bracing himself, Harry looked into her eyes and saw all the compassion she had for him, all the concern for him, and he knew that he _had_ to tell her the truth.

"Hermione, you know I don't have a great family life with the Dursleys, but I haven't really told you everything." He stared at her and saw the grim acceptance of what she had known. She squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue. And so he did. He told her everything that he could think of that she should know, from his aunt hitting him with a frying pan, to his uncle whipping him bloody for messing up breakfast, to his cousin and his gang playing 'Harry Hunting'. He even told her about the cupboard and the room he was allocated, which had locks and a cat flap to keep him in. She listened in horror and disgust, holding on to his hand the entire time.

At the close of Harry's story, Hermione wept. She wept for the loss of innocence he suffered, for the utter torture he endured from his so-called "family," and her rage at the injustice of it all. She took him into one of her famous hugs and cried for him.

Harry held her close to himself, feeling like a ton of bricks had been lifted off of his shoulders. He looked at Hermione, feeling his love for her swell, and kissed her on the cheek. She snuggled even closer to him. He wiped the tears off her face and sighed, feeling a little guilty for making her cry.

"Don't you dare feel guilty, Harry." Hermione said, almost reading his mind. "I asked you to tell me what those scars were, and you told me. If anyone should feel guilty, it's those relatives of yours." She looked at him hard, then her eyes softened and she kissed him, pouring all of her love and care into the melding of their lips. Tentatively, she brushed her tongue against the seam of his lips, and he immediately granted her the entry she sought after, their tongues dueling. The snogging session ended when there were two shadows looming over them, clearing their throats.

"As much as we enjoy watching you two snog-"

"We wanted to tell you both something." Fred and George said, both looking thoroughly amused at the blushing teens.

"Okay. Shoot." Harry said, peeved at having the moment interrupted.

"Well, ickle Ronniekins-" Fred started

"Seems to still be a prick, but no news there." George said, shaking his head at his younger brother's behavior.

"He was absolutely raving about how you shouldn't have survived the dragon." Fred said, looking more serious than either Harry or Hermione had ever seen him.

"We think that he's a lost cause and wanted to warn you both that he seems to have-" George started, looking just as serious as his brother.

"Gone dark. He might try something stupid." Fred finished, watching the couple.

Harry sighed, knowing that he had lost one of his friends due to their own jealousy. It stung, but Harry knew that if Ron hadn't come around by now, he wasn't a real friend. Hermione squeezed his shoulder, knowing just how much this must've hurt him.

"Well, thanks for the heads up, guys. I appreciate it." Harry said, the hurt evident in his tone. Fred and George sighed, slapping Harry on the back.

"Don't worry mate, we'll still hang out with you." George said

"Yeah, you can't get rid of our lovely faces that easily!" Fred said, grinning. Harry chuckled and bade them goodnight as they headed up to their dorm.

"I guess that's the end of our friendship with Ron." Harry said, turning to Hermione. She nodded with sympathy and rested her head on his shoulder. She truly hated the redhead in that moment for hurting her Harry.

The next few days passed with ease, the couple spending nearly every moment together, only separating to either sleep or use the bathroom. Despite their belief that they were as close as possible, they grew even closer.

During one of their Transfiguration classes, Professor McGonagall announced that the Yule Ball would be held in the castle. While the boys all groaned and the girl's all cheered, she started speaking about the dance and how important it was for the fourth years and up to go and not embarrass their school. When she dismissed the class, she asked Harry to stay behind for a moment. Giving Hermione a nod, he walked over to the Scottish professor.

"Mr. Potter, I just wanted to inform you that the champions and their dates must open the ball with a dance." Professor McGonagall said. "Now, although I'm certain you will have no trouble finding a date," she smiled slightly at this, "I wanted to implore you to practice dancing. It would do you no good to step on your date's feet and make a fool of yourself." She finished warmly. Harry, somewhat nervous about dancing in front of everyone, thanked her and left to go to his next class. Now, all he had to do was ask Hermione to the dance, which would be relatively easy, but he wanted to do it right.

So, after his last class, he ran over to Hagrid's hut and to told him of the dance and asked him if he could have some flowers. Surprisingly, Hagrid gave Harry some red roses and wished him luck with asking Hermione to the dance. Before dinner, Harry walked into the common room to find Hermione sitting on the couch, reading _Hogwarts: A History_ which made him smile. While she was preoccupied with her favorite book, Harry knelt in front of the fire place, facing her, on one knee.

"Mione?" He asked softly, trying to tear her attention away from her book gently.

She looked up at him and gasped lightly, her cheeks flushing with color as she saw the flowers. "Harry?" she asked, her voice shaking a little with excitement.

"I was wondering if you would do me the honor of accompanying me to the ball, Ms. Granger." He said, smiling softly. She chuckled lightly at his antics.

"Why, Mr. Potter, I would _love _to accompany you to the ball." She replied, smiling at him as he got up, smiling broadly, and handed her the flowers. She leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. Everyone in the common room watched the tender moment, some even "aw-ing." The boys all wolf-whistled when the kiss finished, and the girls all clapped. Both Harry and Hermione blushed until they were as red as a tomato.

Hermione would have to say that Harry could be quite romantic, and every girl in the castle would be hard-pressed to disagree.

AN: Ta-dah! This chapter went up faster than I anticipated, and it's most likely due to all the awesome reviewers and readers. So thank you. Give yourselves a nice big pat on the back, my friends. I have to mention that i was going to upload yesterday, but the minute I went to upload, was down. Just my luck. Again, I must warn you that I might not update frequently, but I will write until I finish. I'm quite prone to writer's block, but I can get over it when I have all you amazing peeps reading and reviewing. If you have anything you would like to share with me, ideas, criticisms, etc., please feel free to share with me via reviews or PMs. I'm always interested in what everyone thinks or has an idea about. Also, I was thinking of putting in a Hogsmead visit, but I wasn't sure if it would work. Please tell me what you think about that idea. So, the Yule Ball will be next chapter, and _maybe _the second task. Maybe. But, I digress. Again, thank you for all the support.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Weeks passed with nothing very important happening, and Harry and Hermione practiced their dancing. While it took a few days for him to get the hang of it, he soon became quite the dancer under Hermione's guidance. Before Harry knew it, it was the day before the Yule Ball. Hermione had told him that he wasn't allowed to see her dress, but she helped him pick out a "dashing" tux, as she called it.

Their relationship, though they were taking it quite slow, was growing beautifully. There was a lot of talking, and a lot of snogging. Fred and George, after seeing the couple enter the common room one evening all rumpled, had said "So it's true. It is always the quiet ones." The stinging hex they suffered from a blushing Hermione had them never mentioning the rumpled looks again.

"Harry, what are you thinking about?" Hermione asked from her position on his side, with her head resting on his shoulder. They were both just reading about the Tournament, trying to find out anything they could about the egg and its clue.

"Not much. Just thinking of the past month. It's been quite extraordinary, hasn't it?" Harry asked, looking from the book in his lap to the beauty on his shoulder. She looked back, smiling.

"Yeah, it really has." She replied, planting a soft kiss on her boyfriend's lips.

He deepened it slightly, causing her to open her mouth slightly as he dashed his tongue in. The dueling of tongues lasted for a few minutes before the two teens came up for air. Off to the other side of the common room, one redhead huffed in annoyance.

'She's supposed to be mine. Bloody Potter. Gets the fame, glory and the girl.' Ron thought, his seething jealousy almost palpable. He hadn't even been able to secure a date, meaning that he was the only bloke in school allowed to the ball with no date. And, of course, he blamed Harry. 'I'll get you for this, Potter. This is the last time you outdo me.´ He said, grinning evilly. Besides the fact that he wasn't very smart, Ron was very capable of devious plotting. The wheels turned as he watched the couple on the couch with jealousy.

"Nervous, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked, her eyes twinkling from her usually stern face. Harry was pacing at the stairwell to the Great Hall, where Hermione had asked him to meet her. He smiled at one of his favorite professors warmly.

"Just a little, Professor. Have you seen Hermione, ma'am?" he asked politely, hoping for some knowledge of his date. Professor McGonagall's eyes flickered up the stairwell.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. Maybe you should turn around." She answered, a hint of amusement entering her accented words. Harry spun around, and his heart stopped while his jaw dropped at the sight before him.

Standing at the top of the stairs was Hermione Granger, her beauty shining through her slightly straightened hair that was done up in an elegant fashion and a periwinkle dress that accented her figure perfectly. She smiled at Harry, her eyes dancing with amusement at her boyfriend's reaction. Professor McGonagall leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear. "Close your mouth before flies zoom in, Harry. Have fun." With that, the Scottish woman left for the Great Hall, leaving the two teens staring at each other. Finally, Harry came to his senses.

"Hermione… you… you look amazing." He managed, climbing up the stairs to help her down.

"Why thank you, Harry. You look very handsome yourself. You should wear a tux more often." She said, blushing prettily. They walked together towards the Great Hall, hand in hand. As they entered the Hall behind the other champions, all eyes turned on them. The couple paid no mind to them, only focusing on each other, their minds only on their partner.

They walked over to the head table, where the champions and officials were to be seated. They took their seats next to Cedric and Cho Chang on their left, with Viktor Krum and a Hufflepuff girl Harry recognized as Susan Bones on their right, and Fleur Delacour farther down with a Ravenclaw boy Harry recognized as Michael Corner, the captain of the Ravenclaw quidditch team. All the couples talked amiably about their weeks, the first task, and other things. Once they ordered their food and ate, the conversation had boiled down to small talk. Soon, it was time to open the ball with the dance. Though Harry was a little nervous about dancing in front of a huge crowd, he was decidedly confident in his ability to dance well with Hermione. She smiled at him as they took their spot on the dance floor, taking his hand in hers and putting her other arm around his neck as he put one hand on her waist. A moment of silence deafened the hall, and then the music started. The couple danced with an ease and grace that reflected their relationship perfectly. After the first dance, the Hall erupted into thunderous applause for all four of the champions. The champions all turned and bowed to the crowd in thanks.

The rest of the Ball passed by for the couple with lots of dancing and laughing. It went that way for pretty much everyone.

Everyone but one redhead, who watched the couple with envy.

'Soon, Potter. I'll take care of you soon.' Ronald Weasley thought, shoveling another forkful of food into his mouth. Several people cringed in disgust when they happened to look over in the direction of the youngest Weasley male.

Walking Hermione back to the Gryffindor common room, Harry reflected on how wonderful the evening was, and how beautiful Hermione looked. He turned his head slightly to look at her, only to find she was watching him as well. They both smiled, blushing lightly. They continued onto the common room, steeling glances at one another every so often. Once they reached the common room, they shared a passionate kiss at the bottom of the stairs.

"Thank you for allowing me the honor of escorting you to the ball, Ms. Granger. I had an exquisite time with you." Harry teased, giving Hermione a low bow. She giggled.

"Why, Mr. Potter, I must say that it was absolutely smashing going to the ball with you." She mocked back, curtseying to him. They both started laughing for the sheer joy of being young and in love, though neither had said that word yet. They laughed and then their eyes locked, their laughter dying instantly. Green locked with brown, emerald with citrine. They moved closer together, their eyes fired up with passion. Their lips locked in a searing kiss, their tongues dueling for dominance. The kiss was fierce and passionate, yet gentle and loving. It boiled their blood but chillingly numbed their minds. It was perfect yet imperfect. Once it was broken, the two stared into each other's eyes. Emerald and citrine locked in a dance of passionate yet unrequited love.

"Hermione, I-" Harry started, but was interrupted.

"Oi! Potter! You son of a bitch! How dare you take the girl I wanted? First, you enter the tournament for even more fame, and then you steal the girl. Dammit, Potter, can't you just let me have one thing?" Ron Weasley, ex-best friend of the Boy-Who-Lived, shouted from the portrait hole. Although Harry knew that Hermione was a big girl and could handle herself, he could not allow Weasley to insult her by turning her into an object, nor could he ignore the slights against himself. Slowly, he turned to face his former friend.

"First off, Ron, I told you that I didn't enter myself in the tournament, so you're calling me a liar, which I am not. Second, although she can speak for herself and defend herself, you refer to Hermione as some sort of object or trophy you deserve instead of the beautiful young woman that she is, which you most certainly do not deserve. Third, you call me out as some sort of thief, which, again, I am not. You, Ron Weasley, have some nerve to ruin my evening in such a manner." He said, his face stone-cold and his tone frosty, with his eyes blazing in fury. Although Hermione was in fact offended by being referred to as an object by Ron, she was touched at how Harry defended her without being misogynistic. So, she decided to let the scene play out without her own interference.

Ron had had his wand hidden behind him and whipped it out at this, his eyes filled with anger. Luckily, Harry had his wand hidden in a sheath on his forearm and quickly pulled it out. Ron cast a bat-bogey hex, which Harry easily deflected with a shield charm. Harry cast stupefy, which Ron dodged. Hermione stood, frozen in disbelief as she watched the scene unfold. She couldn't comprehend that her one-time friend was now attacking her boyfriend. Ron noticed this and decided to play it to his advantage, knowing that while he could never get a hit on a prepared Harry Potter, he could cripple him by hurting the unmoving witch. He cried out the first spell he could think of, using his newfound hatred for Harry Potter.

"Reducto."

Harry heard this word and saw the direction of Ron's wand. Knowing there was no way to deflect the spell while it traveled the short distance across the common room, he did what he felt he had to; he stepped in front of the person he loved.

Pain. Harry's world was nothing but pain. It was worse than the time that Marge set her dog on him. Worse than the time that Uncle Vernon had beaten and whipped him for asking about his parents. Worse than the time that Aunt Petunia smacked him on the head with a skillet. Worse than the time that Dudley and his gang had pushed him into an alley to try out his new hunting knife and some new punches. This was more painful than those combined. As he collapsed to the floor, yelling in agony, Hermione was shocked out of her stupor.

"HARRY!" she shouted, taking out her own wand. She stunned Ron, who had been enjoying the sight of the pain he had caused Harry. She quickly ran to Harry and took his head in her hands, watching his face as he panted like a racehorse, his eyes looking around wildly. Hermione knew the textbook profile of shock, and Harry was most definitely going into shock. She called out for help, to which Katie Bell quickly responded, running to get Madam Pomfrey before getting Professor McGonagall.

The scene was messy, the common room more crimson than usual. Harry's left shoulder had a hole through it, the spell having hit an artery. The blood poured out like a crimson tide, non-stop. Hermione did what she could to stop the blood flow by placing her hands over the wound, trying to calm herself and Harry down by talking to him.

"Harry, stay with me. You _need_ to stay with me, Harry." She said, her eyes locked onto his own, the light in his slowly going out. "Harry, come on, you _need to stay_. I need you to stay. Please. Please, don't leave me!" she cried, tears overflowing from her eyes. "I need to tell you something. I've been meaning to tell you, but I didn't want to go too fast. Harry, I love you. I love you Harry James Potter. Don't you dare leave me." She cried.

Harry, even in his state of shock, registered her words and felt the warmth of her love shower him. He reached up with a shaking hand and caressed her cheek. "I love you, too. I love you Hermione Jean Granger." He said softly, staring into her eyes.

The portrait hole burst open, Madam Pomfrey running towards the boy on the floor with Professor McGonagall not far behind. They both started casting spell after spell on him, closing the wound, resetting the shoulder and such. Madam Pomfrey handed Hermione a potion she knew to be a blood replenishing potion, ordering her to pour it down Harry's throat and make sure he swallowed it. Hermione did just that, massaging his throat to help him swallow.

After five minutes of non-stop medical attention, there was nothing more they could do. It was up to Harry to recover. His breathing had returned to a normal pace, his face showing his discomfort, and he was unconscious.

After Harry seemed stable, Professor McGonagall questioned Katie Bell on what she had heard of the fight. Then, she moved over to the stunned Ronald Weasley. After tying him up, she revived him for questioning.

"Mr. Weasley! How dare you attack a fellow student, within school grounds, no less. You could have killed Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall said sternly, her lips set in a determined line, her blood boiling. "Explain yourself, Mr. Weasley." The redhead looked at the professor and uttered one of the most inane explanations she had ever heard in her career as a teacher.

"Professor, Harry stole _my_ girl. First, he entered the tournament, and then he steals her! Why does he get everything? Fame, glory, money, and the girl! I _wish _I had killed him." Ron said, his tone whining the entire time.

Professor McGonagall couldn't believe the fact that Ron had no remorse, no regret for almost killing his one-time friend. She also couldn't understand the way that he referred to Hermione like an object that he solely owned. It set her blood boiling even further.

"MR. WEASLEY. YOU MOVE TO THE HEADMASTER'S OFFICE RIGHT NOW. I'm calling the aurors. MOVE." She bellowed. Ron started cowering as he realized the severity of the situation. He trudged off to the Headmaster's Office while trying to think of a way out of his situation.

Hermione, meanwhile, was sobbing in relief with the fact that her boyfriend was going to be alright. She helped Madam Pomfrey clean up and transport Harry to the hospital wing and into his usual bed. Madam Pomfrey changed him into pajamas using magic. Hermione took her place by the head of the bed, changed into hospital pajamas from her dress. She took his hand and stroked the back of it, relieved at the warmth of it. Then, she fell asleep, holding the hand of the boy she loved like no other.

AN: Hello all! So that was the third chapter. I know, I know, I hurt Harry again. Honestly though, I enjoy having Hermione worry over him. Plus, it gave me the chance to have them proclaim their undying love *sighs dramatically*. How romantic! Anyways, I have two questions to ask you, my dear readers. First, do you guys want Dumbledore bashing or Dumbedore is good? I'm not sure which one I would prefer writing, so I'll leave that up to you guys. Second: what do you guys think of having Harry's parents come back to life? I won't tell you when I would put it in. I want to know what you all think of the idea before I really let my imagination get that far. Okay, well, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Reviews are much appreciated. Yours Truly, PottertheOtter


	4. NEW POLL IS UP

UPDATE: wow, you guys really all have many varied opinions. I just taught myself how to create a poll, so I've now got that opened on my profile page right now. You can choose two choices out of four, such as the combo dumbles bashing/bring back the parents and such. I will close it in exactly ONE week. This way, everybody's happy that their voice was heard. But I DO appreciate all your ideas. Thank you! Your grateful writer, PottertheOtter 


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